Poisoned Moon
by fhrulz21
Summary: Something is stalking the Preserve. It has the pack on edge. The past that Chris and Peter have kept long buried is about to resurface and cause them to question themselves and reexamine everything they have felt since they were teenagers.
1. A Walk In The Woods

_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Jeff Davis and MTV._

_Happy Holidays to Shewolf! This is a prompt-fill for the Teen Wolf Holiday Gift Exchange on AO3._

**Chapter 1: A Walk In The Woods**

The silence was deafening. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the barren trees, elongating shadows and making the hush even more unsettling. Ever since Chris had threatened to put a bullet in Peter's head if he didn't _shut up_ immediately, the hunter had been on edge, just waiting for the last wolf he wanted to be paired with to say something else. Peter always knew exactly what to say to push his buttons. Chris resolved to kill Scott.

The teenaged Alpha came to him, asking for his help tracking an unknown entity in the Preserve. Chris thought Scott was being paranoid, but the boy insisted that every time he entered a certain section, he felt like he was being stalked. Considering there were very few creatures that would be bold enough to stalk an alpha werewolf on their own territory, Chris agreed to lend a hand. He just didn't know that he would be stuck with Peter because no one else trusted him to have their backs if something really did go down.

He gritted his teeth, clenched his hand tighter around the grip of his Desert Eagle and glared at the trees. The only thing stopping him from shooting the werewolf right then and there was that he was on a tracking mission. Shooting Peter would just draw the attention of whatever it was wandering around in these woods. He was so deep in thought, that when a hand reached out and touched his arm, he brought his gun to bear on the smaller man.

Peter rolled his eyes and let go. "Scott's right. There's something here."

"Something? Can't you hone in on it better than that?"

Peter shook his head. His eyebrows pinched slightly together. "I can feel it, but there's something masking the scent. It's like I can _almost _catch its scent, but it vanishes the moment I focus on it."

Chris nodded his acknowledgement. "Can you get a direction of the feeling?"

"A general direction, sure. But, that's not going to do much good if this thing is planning an ambush."

"I'll take it. We can report back and regroup. We need a better plan than 'go find the bad feeling'."

Peter's head languidly turned to the hunter. "That anxious to pass me off to someone else?"

Chris turned away from the werewolf and grunted.

Peter's lips tilted up at the corner. He always got such extreme satisfaction at scratching at the sore spots. They were done here, for now.

Chris pulled out his cellphone and dialed Scott. "We have a general direction. Heading back to talk options." He hung up before Scott could reply. He just wanted to get back and get this over with. The hunter spun on his heel and bumped into Peter's back. Chris felt a growl work its way up his chest.

Before he could say anything to the _obstruction_, Peter whispered, "There's more to this." His voice almost broke on the last syllable.

The tone of his voice startled Chris. He had not heard Peter sound that vulnerable in years. He edged around the werewolf and halted, horrified at what Peter was staring at. There, carved into the tree was a reminder of everything Chris had forced himself to forget years ago. A heart was dug into the tree, an arrow slanted through. Inside the heart were the initials PH. Inscribed in the arrowhead, CA.

In that same broken tone, Peter continued, "How do we keep this from them?"

Chris swallowed. "If this is part of what's happening, we can't."

"Coincidence?"

"When have we ever been so lucky?"

Peter's laugh lodged in his throat. "Never."

* * *

The pack was already assembled at the McCall house. The trip back had been quiet, contemplative. Memories weighed heavily between them. Chris knew that this was going to rattle Allison and he was not looking forward to dealing with the fallout after they figured everything out.

Peter gazed at Chris. For a brief moment, he wanted to reach out and touch Chris's hand, just like they had when they were young. Instead, he pushed that part of him down and rolled his eyes. He stepped up to the front door of the McCall house and let himself in. "Honey, we're home," he drawled to the group.

The pack barely glanced up. He felt his material was getting stale. Feeling Chris's presence behind him, he knew that their ambivalence wouldn't last for long. He was rather excited to see Allison's face.

Chris stepped around the werewolf. "We found a general location, but Peter couldn't get much of a read on scent."

"I couldn't get much of anything. It was like all of my senses dimmed the moment we hit that section of forest."

Scott turned to the veterinarian, "Is there anything that can clear an area of scent like that?"

"Several things. There are some creatures that are known to be scentless, as you found with Jackson. There are also a few that can dampen their surroundings almost like camouflage to protect themselves from other predators. But, I don't think we can rule out this being human either."

"Human?" Scott asked, worried. "You mean hunter related."

Deaton nodded his head. "Anise is known to get rid of scent. It's used often in cleansers and soaps. It also has … interesting … effects on canines."

"Have you ever seen it used to cover a whole area of forest?"

Deaton's brow furrowed and his mouth drew taught. "No. If hunters are doing this, it's something they have only recently developed."

Chris and Peter came around to stand at the table. Peter picked up the black marker and circled the area they had been in. "This is where we encountered the phenomenon."

Scott and the rest of the wolves stared at the map. The Alpha shook his head, "There's nothing in that area that would be useful. It's over two miles from the Nemeton. There haven't been any bodies found there and there are no buildings or anything nearby that would give something a place to hide. Why there? It makes no sense."

The two men shuffled slightly, their arms briefly brushing. Chris yanked his arm from the werewolf beside him. The rest of the pack looked at the two, noting the odder than normal behavior. Scott's eyebrow lifted. "Is there something about that area that we don't know?"

Chris looked directly at Allison. "It was a meeting spot."

Allison's eyebrows furrowed together. "For you and mom? I thought you met in Washington."

Chris swallowed. "We did. This was before your mother."

Peter was morbidly fascinated with everyone's expressions. He knew this would shatter a lot of long held beliefs, and may even end with him taking a knife in the chest from the fierce, young huntress; but he could not seem to suppress his feelings of vindication.

Chris glanced back at Peter for support, but only received a smirk for his efforts.

Derek was the first to catch the look. "Wait. You two?" He jabbed a finger at the two men in front of him. His expression morphed from disbelief to disgust.

Allison could not contain herself, her jaw dropped in horror. "What?! You dated _that_?"

Peter's head jerked back. "I will have you know that I was just as attractive then as I am now. And your father was quite handsome himself."

Allison's hand flew towards the small crossbow she carried in her purse. Before she could take aim, Chris grabbed her arm and held it to keep the weapon pointed at the ceiling. "Allison, it was a long time ago. I did love your mother, never doubt that."

Deaton broke into the brewing fight with his ever calm voice, "If this is related we are most likely dealing with hunters. It could still be something else we have overlooked, but all of you should take extreme caution when going into the forest until this is resolved."

Scott shook his head to clear it from the evening's disturbing revelations. "Tomorrow we go back out to narrow down the area. We have a starting point. Before we jump to conclusions about who is doing this, we need to find out how large the area is that is being affected. We'll break into groups of two again and work our way around the perimeter of this section of forest. If there are any signs of hunters or something else taking up residence, call in and we will all come to inspect further. We do _not_ press further into the area than necessary. We don't need anyone to get hurt because they didn't have backup."

Isaac started folding papers and putting things away. He knew that he was sitting in the middle of a potential storm and wanted to get clear before anything else could happen. The rest of the pack all had similar ideas and cleared out as quickly as possible.

Peter smiled at everyone's nervousness. He was looking forward to putting his hands on Chris in front of the pack and watching their reactions. He shrugged to himself. Chris was physically tugging Allison out to the car and away from Peter as fast as he could manage. Peter's grin sharpened with every pointed question coming from the girl. He was only upset that he would miss that show down in their apartment. He nodded to Scott and Deaton as he strolled out of the house and towards his own car.

* * *

The next morning found Chris and Peter paired together again. Allison would not leave her father alone and she could not be trusted anywhere in the vicinity of the older wolf. Derek was in a similar state. He had spent years feeling guilty about dating Kate and being the only idiot in the pack at that point to tempt fate with a hunter. He wanted to shake Peter, or rip his throat out again. The latter seemed more likely with every smug grin Peter shot towards Chris and Allison.

The two men started back towards where they had been the day before. Chris would shoot silencing glares at the werewolf every time he would open his mouth. He knew it would not last for long. Eventually, Peter would say what he wanted. He felt himself grimace as Peter finally decided to risk it.

"If this is related to … us, why are they attacking now? For that matter, who would bother with it after so many years? No one knew back then; and I certainly never said anything – or had the opportunity."

Chris felt himself squirm under Peter's questioning gaze.

"You know something," Peter stated.

Chris didn't respond. He wanted to avoid this talk as long as possible. He had just forgotten how stubborn Peter was.

"Now is _not_ the time to hold back, Christopher!"

"Do you remember when we left the first time?"

Peter wanted to claw the answers out of the other man, but forced himself to be patient. "I remember you not showing up at our spot. I remember being terrified that you had been caught sneaking out after waiting for over an hour. I _also_ remember running to your house and finding it completely empty. There was nothing from you. No note, no hidden message. I tore the garden apart looking for any sign. When that didn't pan out, I broke into the house and ripped up the carpets, searching for _anything_ that would tell me where you were heading, when you would be back," he paused, breath slightly ragged, "that you loved me and wouldn't forget."

Peter glared back at Chris, eyes sharp and piercing. "I also remember when you came back."

This time, Chris visibly flinched. He knew Peter would see it as a betrayal. And in his heart, he knew that returning to Beacon Hills with Victoria and a young Allison would hurt Peter. "Peter, I -" he was cut-off as Peter's hand shot up.

The werewolf was fully focused on the forest. Chris turned his full attention to where Peter was keyed to. The forest was silent. Not a single branch moved. The crickets that had been so prevalent in the earlier part of their journey were noticeably absent. The stillness sent shivers running up the hunter's spine. His hand drifted to his gun, ready to defend himself from whatever was setting the forest on edge.

Peter's eyes shifted as he tried to get a better view on what was hiding in the trees. All he could see were indistinct shapes that _could_ be something, but everything about it was setting his nerves on edge. It almost screamed concealment to him. It all felt too planned, too premeditated. He took a half-step backwards when he heard the whistle of an arrow displacing the air around it. He turned and caught the arrow before it could strike. The moment his had clenched around the shaft, he heard the crack of rifle fire and pain erupted from his side. He felt his knees give out from under him as wolfsbane leaked from the bullet into his bloodstream.

"Peter!" Chris moved to stand over the fallen werewolf and shield him from further harm. He brought his gun up in the direction the bullet had come from, but he was having no luck finding the culprit. He grabbed his cellphone out of his pocket with his free hand to dial Scott, but paused when he heard leaves crunching under someone's boots to his left. He did not want to take his focus away from the shooter with the gun, but these were hunters and he was desperately out numbered.

The crunching got louder and Chris finally turned towards it. "Caine."

The hunter was a few years younger than Chris, but quite experienced. He was in full tactical gear and carrying a crossbow. "Chris. I have to admit, when I got the call from your father, I never imagined that he would be right."

Chris's hand tightened around the grip of his gun. "Right about what?"

The younger hunter slowly started to circle the pair. "He called us, concerned that you would be going back to your old ways now that Victoria is dead. And here you are, standing over the very wolf you were so infatuated with before."

Chris glanced down at Peter. The werewolf's blood was starting to turn black as it seeped from his wound. Chris felt true fear for Peter as more hunters came to inspect the scene. He counted at least eight, but he was sure that there were more in the woods and wherever they had set up camp. The hunters calmly approached and settled into a circular pattern, surrounding Peter and Chris. It was disconcerting for Chris to feel so intimidated by people he was used to calling allies, if not friends.

Caine spoke up. "Sorry about this Christopher, but your father gave us very specific orders."

Peter's wide, terrified eyes were the last thing Chris saw as one of the hunters behind him struck him on the temple.


	2. Lost Without You

_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Jeff Davis and MTV._

_Thanks to my two betas SydnieWren and Padamaa for working through this and getting it ready for posting._

**Chapter 2: Lost Without You**

Peter knew that this was not going to end well for him. In a competition between Peter and Gerard, Gerard won the psychopath contest by a large margin; not that the werewolf had not given it his best try. He started to roll to his uninjured side. He might be surrounded, but he refused to die lying down.

"Ah, ah, ah little wolf," Caine scolded as he placed a boot on Peter's chest. "You have some things to answer for."

Peter held his breath, not allowing a whine to escape. He took in a ragged breath and choked on black blood. The wolfsbane bullet lodged in his abdomen was rapidly poisoning him, pumping through his bloodstream. Darkness started to close in on the edges of his vision. He felt a chuckle work its way up his chest. With how quickly the aconite was acting, he was likely not going to last long enough to be tortured.

Caine looked at the hunter to his left. "Devlin, get that bullet out of him before he dies."

Rough hands grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back. The sudden movement made Peter's head swim and stomach seize. Vomit surged up his throat and spewed into the leaves. By the time he stopped expelling the contents of his stomach, his wrists were bound by large cuffs and he was flipped over onto his back. He wished that he was still distracted because in the next moment, the hunter he assumed was Devlin had forceps jabbed into his wound and none-to-gently grabbed the bullet and pried it out. Peter did let a whine escape his lips then.

The ring of hunters chuckled at his sign of distress.

"Don't worry, there's no need to clean it out. After all, we have no intention of allowing you to actually heal." Caine glanced up and directed his next statement towards a hunter in Peter's peripheral vision. "Get that hood out, no need to let this one have any idea where he's going."

Peter focused all of his attention on his hearing and sense of smell as the black hood dropped over his head. He would need every bit of knowledge he could glean from his surroundings if he was going to survive and escape the grasp of Gerard's men. He felt himself lifted up off of the ground and thrown into what felt like a wire dog crate. The rustle of fabric and sudden lessening of warmth against his skin told him that they covered him with a tarp to keep prying eyes from seeing him as a hostage in the back of the pickup.

Every jostle and bump through the woods aggravated his side and made his head pound. He refused to give in to unconsciousness. He needed his wits about him. As far as he could tell, they travelled at least fifteen miles north before stopping. They had passed a creek ten minutes before and the forest scent changed from one with more oak to one with more redwood. He may not have an exact location, but if he managed to escape, he was confident that he would be able to find his way back to Beacon Hills.

The tarp was ripped off of the crate and two sets of strong hands pulled him out of the wire pen and onto the ground. Peter tried to get his feet under him, but was rewarded with the butt of a gun to the back of the head. Woozily, he barely held on to consciousness as they dragged him into a building and down a set of wooden stairs.

The two that were holding him up, jerked his arms above his head and clipped the cuffs to something attached to a concrete wall. Before he could get his head to cooperate with him after being pistol-whipped, the black hood was torn off. He clenched his eyes closed at the light in the room, the sudden brightness momentarily blinding him.

Peter squinted his eyes and saw the hunters had all stepped back and now stood against the far wall, looking far too gleeful and anticipatory for his comfort.

Footsteps echoed as someone came down the stairs. The werewolf craned his head as far as he could to his right to see which hunter was going to be picking up where Caine left off. He felt his body shudder as he registered just who had joined this party.

"Hello, Peter," Chris's father drawled.

"And I was just getting comfortable too," he snarked back.

* * *

Chris groaned. His thoughts were fuzzy and when he opened his eyes, everything spun. It was one giant blur of leaves, trees and sky. Within seconds, the hunter's brain activated and started processing everything around him. He felt physically fine and unrestrained. The sky was still light, but the shadows were longer, casting their dark shapes further across the forest floor. He estimated that he had been unconscious for two or three hours. Certainly not the longest he had been out cold for.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. Seven texts from Allison, two missed calls from Scott and one voicemail. Just as he went to dial Scott for backup, the phone started vibrating. Sliding his finger to the right, he answered. "Scott."

"Mr. Argent. What happened? Where are you?"

"Same place as yesterday. Hunters ambushed us, shot Peter, knocked me out and from the looks of things, took Peter with them."

"On our way. Allison and Isaac will be there in five minutes. Stay on the line until they get there."

Chris heaved himself onto his feet. His head spun briefly, but he managed to stay vertical long enough to make it to the nearest tree. He blinked and everything went dark for what felt like seconds, but must have been much longer because when he opened his eyes, Allison was calling his name and shaking his shoulder. He jerked his head up and looked into his daughter's panicked eyes.

"I'm okay," Chris breathed.

He went to push himself off the tree, but stopped when he felt the uneven bark underneath his fingertips. The hunter closed his eyes and swallowed. He could feel the old emotions rising up and almost choking the air from his lungs. This mess was his fault. If he had been a less rebellious son, he was sure that the damage to Peter would not have been so great. The disaster of Peter's psyche was purely on his shoulders and the guilt was overwhelming.

"Dad. Come on. We have to regroup and figure out how to fix this."

Chris looked back up into earnest, brown eyes and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get going."

Isaac took several steps backwards and walked behind the father-daughter duo, not wanting to intrude on an intensely private and emotional moment. He had no idea how this would affect their relationship nor the relationships among the pack.

* * *

Peter's body thrashed against the chains pinning him to the wall. The electricity sparked every nerve and caused his muscles to contract and spasm. Every time his abdomen clenched, the remnants of the wolfsbane the hunters left in him forced themselves deeper into his tissue. The surge stopped. Peter hung limply, the cuffs the only thing keeping him vertical. Sweat poured from his scalp and down into his eyes. The werewolf blinked to clear his vision as footsteps calmly approached. He lifted his eyes to watch his captor.

The man brought his hand out of his pocket and clicked open his dagger. "That bullet wound looks like it isn't healing. But, I am sure I can help boost the healing process."

A scream ripped out of Peter's throat as Gerard jammed the blade deep into the still open bullet wound. With a feral grin more suited to a werewolf than a human, he twisted the dagger clockwise and pushed in until his hand was drenched in blood streaked with black tendrils. He stepped back to view his work and wiped his hands with a handkerchief.

"Well, that doesn't seem to have helped."

Peter glared up at the man he had appropriately nicknamed geriatric psychopath months ago. "Maybe if you tried the other side," he gritted out.

"By the time we are done here, you will no longer be able to voice your sad excuses for banter." Gerard strolled over to his table of options. Casually, he considered what to continue with. With sure fingers, he grasped an ice pick in his left hand. He took the ice pick and swirled it around in an oily lilac fluid. In two quick strides, Gerard was across the floor and stabbed the ice pick exactly opposite of the dagger.

Gerard laughed at the writhing werewolf.

"Did you know that Kate was my favorite? She was everything that I was hoping for from Christopher. She came to me one day and told me that she wanted to be a warrior, not a leader. But, she was concerned about one day getting pregnant and it ruining her hunting career in the field. No doctor would help her. They all had this ridiculous notion that she was too young to make such a permanent decision. So, one day, we took a hunting trip and had a little accident. The surgeons did all they could, but there was just no saving her womb. The day she came home from the hospital, I had never seen her so excited. She barely stayed still while she finished healing."

Gerard stepped back and brought his bloodied knife with him. He tapped the blade against his bottom lip, leaving a splattering of Peter's blood on his chin.

"My problem was Christopher. We would need a leader and he certainly wasn't what I was looking for. After all, he had fallen in _love_ with _you_. That weakness could not be tolerated. Fortunately, I found Victoria. She was a hellion. Everything I could have wanted and more. She was a born leader. However, she was the youngest daughter in her family. The opportunity was too good to pass up. I needed a leader to train and she needed a family to lead. Mutually beneficial. Of course, we just had to get him over his pathetic attraction to you. Thankfully, in this business, I have a lot of contacts. A witch who owed me a favor charmed a necklace so that as long as Victoria wore it, Christopher would only have eyes for her."

Peter growled low in his throat, but it was cut off with a gurgle as blood pooled at the base of his esophagus. Hacking, he spit up the viscous, red fluid and glared at the old man.

Gerard smiled. "Oh don't worry. I plan to make sure that you are tortured and then put down like the beast you are long before Christopher has the chance to resurrect any feelings he may still have for you. You will pay for Kate's death and you will suffer and die for corrupting my son."

He turned back to his arsenal of weapons and picked up an old favorite. There had been no reason to bring it out to play for many years. Just touching the handle of the spiked mace made him shiver in excitement. He would have to use restraint to ensure that he did not kill the werewolf right away.

"Do you know the last time that I got to use this weapon?"

Peter grunted. "Nope. Can't say that I know how you acted out all of your delusional fantasies."

"I used it to kill three of Deucalion's wolves and three of my hunters that wanted peace. I haven't found any occasion since that is truly deserving of the history of the spiked mace. But, with the history between our families, I think it's poignant to use it once again."

Peter screamed as Gerard bashed his right knee with the mace. His bones crunched and sinew tore. He was never so thankful for his accelerated healing when his kneecap popped back into place and his tendons stitched themselves back together. His breathing was ragged as he tried to focus through the pain.

The moment he was able to take a deep breath again, Gerard wrenched the icepick out of his side and rammed it into his thigh. Peter assumed there must have been some residual wolfsbane oil on the instrument because his knee stopped healing.

"Can't have you healing too fast, now. It would lessen the quality of our time together."

Before Peter could mouth a retort, Gerard swung the mace at his left leg, ripping open the entire outer portion of his thigh and exposing his muscles to the dank air. Blood ran down his leg in rivers as his body tried desperately to close the gaping wound.

Peter could barely see through the splotches in his vision as he lost blood volume. The pain was so intense that he almost did not feel the old hunter stab his knife back into the morning's bullet wound.

"What is it that you wolves believe again?" Gerard tapped his fingers on the table. "Oh right, that if you are good little werewolves and receive the proper burial that you will join your pack and Artemis in the Great Hunt."

Peter lifted his head enough to track the old man's movements. He winced as Gerard stopped with his hand over a pair of pliers.

Gerard's eyes sparkled as he glanced back at the wolf hanging from the wall. "While I was convalescing in that _home_ Christopher put me in, I asked some friends of mine to carry on some side experiments on any wolves they managed to capture. The results were … fascinating. I am hoping to bring those experiments to their full fruition with you."

His fingers grazed the rest of the instruments lying on the table before coming to stop at a syringe full of a clear liquid. "One of the things we found in bitten wolves is that using a combination of drugs, electricity, torture and a few other keys elements, we can separate the wolf from the person. Of course, by the time the wolf was separated, they only lived a handful of hours without that remarkable healing ability."

Gerard paused and stepped in close to Peter, staring directly into his pain-filled blue eyes. "What would happen if you died human? No proper burial would help. You would spend all of eternity separated from your pack. Not even the solace of death would bring you peace," he finished with a hiss.

Peter's eyes glazed with horror. As Gerard's face shown in triumph, Peter's lips twisted into a harsh smile. "Then I still win, old man. I may never see my pack again. But someday, Chris'll die. And then, he's mine - forever."

The old hunter screamed in rage and plunged the syringe deep into the werewolf's chest. Peter's yell of pain morphed into a howl and echoed off the cement walls of the abandoned building.

* * *

The McCall household was silent and tense. Scott and Derek had been the last to arrive. They spent over an hour trying to follow the tracks the pickup had left behind, but they lost it once the truck turned onto a hard-packed access road. With the area covered in whatever was causing their senses to be dulled, there was no way to follow it further.

Chris stood at the center of the room glaring at the map splayed across the coffee table. "That road runs north and south. South would take them out of the forest entirely and they would risk detection. North is the most likely option." Chris's fingers traced the road northward, frowning at the miles of forest. "There are several abandoned buildings not too far from the access road that used to be watch stations for rangers to monitor forest fires. They would be isolated and the basements made of concrete."

Scott examined the man, concerned eyes following Chris's hands as they traced the hunters' likely route. "Any idea which one Gerard would prefer?"

The man's shoulders slumped. "I haven't been up that road in years. Some may be torn down, the topography could have changed due to earthquakes and the stream bed – I just don't have enough information to be sure."

Allison's heart clenched for her father. The emotional turmoil that the last two days had wrought in him was something she never wanted for him to deal with again. She could barely stand to be in Peter's presence, but if his safety was this important to her father, she could handle it. The young huntress took two quiet steps to stand next to her father. Gently, Allison laid her right hand on his left. "Assuming all of the buildings are still standing, which would Gerard most likely use?"

Chris closed his eyes and inhaled. "He would want to get far enough away that no one would be able to easily reach it. But, he's impatient. Especially when it comes to vengeance. He'll want to have easy access himself –" Chris trailed off as he dragged his pointer finger along the map. His brow wrinkled in concentration. He snatched a Sharpie from the table as inspiration struck.

Allison leaned in tighter over the map and watched her dad draw and scratch out large swaths of land, eventually leaving only a five mile stretch of the access road. "How many buildings do you think we have to cover?"

Chris snapped the cap back on and gazed at the map in satisfaction. "Two, at most."

Scott turned the paper around and examined Chris's markings. "This we can work with."

* * *

It had been hours since Gerard left. While the other hunters were not nearly as creative and as disturbed as the old man, Peter missed the witty repartee. These run-of-the-mill hunters seemed like they were all brawn and no brains; useful for someone like Gerard, but boring when trying to strike up a conversation.

The one with the crew cut and too much jaw spoke up, "Hey, puppy! If I neuter you, would your boy still be interested?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'd still get more action than you." He was starting to get the impression that being trapped in a room with these morons attempting to string two words together was the torture.

The brute grabbed a baseball bat and swung it into his stomach. The werewolf groaned. It would not have hurt so much if Gerard had not been so thorough in his torture earlier. Whatever chemicals that maniac had injected him with were still buzzing through his system. His healing was sluggish and not cooperating.

A shrill alarm came from the table holding the mysterious substances Gerard had been measuring out immediately before he left. Peter felt like his head was wrapped in cotton. He instinctively knew that the alarm should have made his ears feel like they were prying themselves off of his skull. Whatever was in that mixture, it was dulling everything werewolf related. He would have said it was dampening all of his senses, but he could feel pain just fine.

Caine grunted as he levered himself off of the wall he had been observing from. "Looks like it's time to give you another dose of your medicine. You know, after five doses, the last wolf we used this on could no longer shift and started to freak out when she couldn't sense the beast inside her. I have no idea how long it will take to work on you, but I hope I am here to witness you lose your shit."

Peter sneered. "Technically, I lost my shit seven years ago and acted on it one year ago. So sorry, you're a little too late to that party."

"You won't be so cocky in a few minutes," Caine said as he jammed the needle into his arm.

The werewolf hissed as the serum rushed into his blood stream. His veins felt like they were on fire. It radiated out from his bicep and raced down to his fingertips, it spread upwards to his shoulder and then down to his chest and heart. Once it reached his heart, the pain became unbearable. The poison flooded his system and boiled his blood. He felt a scream wrench itself from his lungs. He could feel the pressure behind his fangs build as they wanted to force their way out, but the toxin locked them away. Finally, the pain overrode his brain and he fell into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

The pack watched the run down ranger station from the crest of the hill. There was one truck and one large SUV parked outside the front door.

Chris scanned the surrounding area through his binoculars. "I don't see my father's car. With the two vehicles here, I'd say there are a maximum of six hunters."

Scott snapped his claws out, "I like those odds."

Chris placed his binoculars back in their case and set them down next to the fallen limb he was sitting next to. "Stiles, if you hear the signal or if this takes longer than ten minutes, call your father for backup."

Stiles's lips formed a protest, but let out an indignant huff when Scott placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, if there are more than six in there we are going to need help. And lots of it. If you are in there too, how are we going to get back out?"

Stiles glared at his best friend and waved his arm above his head, "Fine! Go sacrifice yourself for Derek's crazy uncle. I'll just sit here and pray that there aren't any hunters in the woods happy to take me out like the bump on a log I'll be pretending to be!"

Scott wrapped his arm around Stiles and pulled him into a tight hug. "We'll be okay. We have three werewolves and two hunters and you watching our backs to make sure we don't get in over our heads."

As Scott pulled out of the embrace, he glanced at Allison and Chris. "The wolves will go in first. The both of you are far better at range and once we take care of whoever is holding Peter, we can find him and get out. Our goal is to knock them unconscious; we don't need any other hunters coming here to seek vengeance. If anyone takes them out permanently, it's Chris. Are we clear?"

Isaac and Derek nodded, lips pursed and muscles taut.

With one more look over his shoulder, Scott nodded to Chris and quietly made his way down the hill, Isaac and Derek following suit. Chris and Allison waited until the wolves cleared the hill and crossed the road before venturing down the treacherous terrain.

By the time Chris set foot on the road, the wolves had reached the door and ripped it off its hinges. Growls echoed and rolled out of the small building interspersed with rapid pops of gunfire. Chris checked Allison's position and signaled for her to approach the door. Her stance shifted as she lowered her crossbow and stepped to the right side of the door, ready to back up her father.

Chris counted down on his fingers from three and swung into the open door, pointing his Desert Eagle into the room. Three of Gerard's men were already down for the count, but the blonde did not see Caine yet. If his father was missing, there was no way Caine would be too. Cautiously, Chris entered the room, sweeping for any more hunters. Allison entered and kept tight to his right and monitored the far corner and door.

In a hush, Chris asked, "Any more men?"

Derek and Scott both shook their heads.

The young Alpha replied, "None up here. But, we haven't found Peter yet. If there are more, they are most likely with him."

Derek focused his attention on the heavy door towards the back of the main room and took a sure step forward. Before he could get any further, Chris grabbed his arm with one hand and took the lead. If there were hunters past that door, they would have wolfsbane bullets and the werewolves would become a liability.

Chris stalked down the wooden stairs. The smell of blood blotted out everything else and his heart beat faster, terrified of what condition he would find Peter in. His feet lightly touched the concrete, bringing him into the basement-turned-torture-chamber. The sight of Peter's wrecked form dangling from heavy metal cuffs took his attention away from his situation until a sharp twang came from behind his shoulder and air dispersed by his ear.

His sights quickly turned toward Caine, sprawled on the floor, crossbow bolt sticking out from his left shoulder, gun slightly out of reach. Chris was never so thankful for his daughter's amazing aim and focus. His voice deep and angry, Chris warned, "One inch towards your weapon and we'll see if you like the taste of a .45."

Caine leaned back and pressed his hand around the shaft of the bolt. "Your father was right. You really have chosen these mutts over your own."

"Allison, make sure he doesn't escape."

The huntress stowed her weapon and grabbed the nearest set of shackles. She looked where Peter was hanging and gave a small smile. Without pause, she wrenched his injured arm harshly behind his back, forcing a yell to escape the hardened man.

"I've always enjoyed the idea of karma," she told the hunter with a smirk.

Just as Derek and Scott freed Peter and pulled him away from the wall he had been chained to, Allison signaled to Isaac to help her with the heavier man. One heft from the werewolf at her side and she was able to hook the shackles on the ring that was just cleared, leaving Caine suspended and bleeding. She knew he would be free in a couple of hours when the other hunters woke up, but it would be a painful few hours he could spend contemplating his decision to follow her grandfather's orders.

Chris flicked the safety of his pistol back on and jammed it back into his thigh holster. His eyes felt deceptively moist as he took in the broken sight of his first romance. Roughly, he moved Scott and Derek out of the way and took Peter's weight on himself. He knew it would be easier for the werewolves to get him out of the basement, but he could not bear to let anyone else touch him until he was sure that the wolf would make it.

He turned to the stairs and addressed the people behind him. "Someone get one of the cars started, we need to get to Deaton's."


End file.
